memorial  Stags 

AND  OTHER  POEMS 


mmmmmammnmmmntm 

JU WET  C  SMITH 


FROM   THE   LIBRARY   OF 
REV.    LOUIS    FITZGERALD    BENSON.   D.  D 

BEQUEATHED    BY    HIM   TO 

THE    LIBRARY   OF 

PRINCETON   THEOLOGICAL   SEMINARY 


Division 


Section 


/Y57S 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2012  with  funding  from 

Princeton  Theological  Seminary  Library 


http://archive.org/details/memorialOOsmit 


• 


iEemorial 


AND   OTHER    POEMS 


BY 


JULIET    C.    SMITH 

author  of 

"Echoes   From  The   Psalter" 
and  "My  First  Duty" 


NEW   YORK 

THOMAS  WHITTAKER 


2  and   3   Bible  House 


Copyright,  1901 


BY 


JULIET    C.   SMITH 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Memorial  Days, 5 

Wherefore  ? 8 

Ash  Wednesday, 10 

Carol  Practice, 12 

Easter  Day, 13 

Ascension  Day, 15 

Remembrance, 16 

A  Wonder, 18 

In  Memoriam, 19 

" Mystic  Sweet  Communion,"  .       .       .       .20 

Sonnet, 23 

Two  Messages, 24 

In  the  Printing-Office, 26 

From  a  Happy  Heart, 27 

Child  Wisdom, 29 

A  King's  Daughter,    ......  30 

A  Birthday  Wish, 32 

What  Lack  I  Yet? 34 

The  Monk's  Prayer, 36 

"We  Would  See  Jesus," 39 

Work  at  thy  Father's  Business,         .       .  41 
Missionary  Hymn, 43 


[5] 


MEMORIAL    DAYS. 

May  30th.  Xovember  1st. 

'Neath    azure  skies,   when  tender    buds    are 

springing, 

In  the  bright  ending  of  the  month  of  May, 

While  happy    birds    their    blithest    lays    are 

singing, 

The  Nation  keeps  her  sad  Memorial  Day. 

With    drooping    flags    and    every    mourning 
token, 
While  funeral  marches  peal    from    muffled 
drums, 
And  elegies  o'er  flower-wreathed  graves  are 
spoken 
To  pay  her  homage  to  her  dead  she  comes. 

'Neath     dreary     skies     in     dull    November 
weather 
When  birds  are  silent,   and  the  trees    are 
bare, 
Some    loving,    faithful  souls  are  drawn  to- 
gether 
To  seek  God's  comfort  in  His   House   of 
Pra\er. 


[6] 


With  fragrant  flowers  decking  font  and  altar, 

And  every  token  of  a  festal  day, 
With   hymns  and  songs  of  praise  that  never 
falter, 
The  Church  her  tribute  to  her  saints  doth 
pay. 

She  does  not  call  them  dead,  nor  deem  them 
sleeping 
On  the  lone  hillside,  under  each  low  mound, 
She  knows  them  safe  in  the  great  Father's 
keeping 
WThere    rest    and    light     and     blessedness 
abound. 

And  looking  for  the  promise  of  that  morrow, 
That  vision  bright  "that  eager  hearts  ex- 
pect," 

She  lifts  us  far  above  all  earthly  sorrow- 
To  share  the  triumph-song  of  God's  elect. 

O  blessed   day,  thy  lessons  sweet  and  holy 
Bringing  new  light  to  weary,  tear-dimmed 
eyes, 
Move  us  to   pray  that   with  the  meek  and 
lowly 
We  soon  mav  see  our  God  in  Paradise. 


[7] 


And  even  here  we  raise  a  glad  thanksgiving, 
Like  to  the  chorus  of  the  heavenly  host, 

To  Him  who   once  was  dead,   but  now    is 
living, 
One  with  the  Father  and  the  Holy  Ghost. 


[8] 


WHEREFORE? 

"He  was  made  in  the  likeness  of  men." 
"That   we   might  be  partakers  of  the   Divine 

nature." 

Ye  blessed  angels !    Why  this  joyful  song, 
This  rapturous  burst  of  praise? 

While  Judea's  hills  the  echoes  sweet  prolong 
And  shepherds  wondering  gaze, 
And  fall,  adoring  in  their  glad  amaze. 

Why  this  rejoicing  that  your  glorious   King 

Has  come  to  earth  to  dwell? 
To  bear  the  cross,   to  feel  Death's  sharpest 
sting, 

To  face  the  pains  of  Hell, 

In  agony  no  mortal  tongue  could  tell. 

Hunger,  and  thirst,  and  weariness — all  these 

Must  be  His  portion  here; 
Days  full  of  care  and  nights  devoid  of  ease, 

Without  a  word  of  cheer ; 

And  vet  vour  chorus  rises  loud  and  clear! 

«/  mi 

"Ah,    but    we    look    beyond    the    cross  and 


grave, 


>  > 


[9] 


A  seraph  voice  replies, 
"And  see  the  myriads  whom   He    came    to 
save 
By  that  blest  sacrifice; 
Who  in   His  strength  to  purer  joys  shall 


rise. 


1 1 


"This  robe  of  flesh  He  deigns  henceforth  to 
wear, 
Your  poor  humanity; 
That  ye  His  Kingdom  and  His  Throne  may 
share 
And, — wondrous  nryster}' ! — 
Partakers  of  His  nature  here  mav  be." 


"Then  marvel  not  that  we  with  Him  rejoice 

Who  see  the  victor\r  won, — 
Nav,  rather  blend  with  ours  vour  grateful 
voice, 

Ye  who  were  else  undone, 

And  praise  His  name  while  endless    ages 


run: 


!» 


[10] 


ASH    WEDNESDAY. 

"I  said,  I  will  confess  my  sins  unto  the  Lord, 
and  so  Thou  forgavest  the  wickedness  of  my  sin." 
— Psalm  xxxii.  6.     (Proper  Psalm.) 

I  will  confess  my  sins,  0  Lord, 

I  cr\T,  as  on  this  solemn  day, 
Obedient  to  the  Church's  word, 

Within  these  Avails  I  kneel  to  pray. 

I  know  Thy  wrath  is  turned  aside 
From  me,  Thy  child,  who  strives  to  be 

A  follower  of  the  Crucified, 
And  draw  both  life  and  strength  from  Thee. 

And  vet  my  tears  flow  faster  now, 
Because  I  know  Thy  pardon  sweet 

Awaits  me,  as  I  humbly  bow, 
Repentant  at  Thy  mercy-seat. 

I  will  confess  each  sinful  deed 
That  grieved  Thy  tender  Father-heart. 

How  oft  I  failed  Thy  voice  to  heed, 
And  would  not  choose  the  better  part. 


[11] 


I  will  confess  each  angry  word 

Whose  memory  fills  my  heart  with  shame, 
And  crave  Thy  pardon,  gracious  Lord, 

For  careless  use  of  Thy  dear  name. 

And  oh,  the  thoughts  of  scorn  and  pride, 

The  eager  haste  to  credit  ill, 
Strong  yearnings  for  some  good  denied 

Or  wild  rebellion  'gainst  Thy  will — 


All  these  I  humbly  bring  to  Thee, 
And  with  them  every  secret  sin 

Which  Thy  keen  eye  alone  can  see, 
So  close  it  lurks  my  heart  within. 

Forgive  me,  Father,  as  I  kneel, 
And  through  these  solemn  fortv  davs 

Thy  wondrous  tenderness  reveal, 
Teach  me  the  more  to  love  and  praise, 

That  so  m\r  penitence  may  be 
No  terror  of  the  wrath  of  Heaven, 

But  earnest,  sweet  humility 
As  best  befits  a  child  forgiven. 


[12] 


CAROL    PRACTICE. 

Ten  little  maids  around  me  stand 

A  reverent  and  a  happy  band, 

And  ' 'Alleluia,  Lord,"  the}'  sing, 

Or,  "Let  the  merry  church  bells  ring." 

For  though  'tis  still  the  Lenten  tide, 

From  mournful  thoughts  we  turn  aside. 

Though  with  its  tale  of  sacrifice 

The  Holy  Week  before  us  lies, 

We  practise  now  our  carols  sweet 

The  coming  Easter  Day  to  greet. 

And  so  I  thought,  'neath  skies  o'ercast, 

We  keep  a  lifelong  Lenten  fast, 

With  cravings  still  unsatisfied, 

WTith  dearest  wishes  oft  denied, 

Discerning  faintly  through  the  gloom 

A  bitter  cross,  a  waiting  tomb — 

And  yet  our  heavenly  Father's  love 

Sends  choicest  blessings  from  above; 

Pledges  of  better  things  in  store, 

When  pain  and  sin  and  death  are  o'er, 

Teaching  His  children  even  here, 

To  sing  their  alleluias  clear, 

To  practise  many  a  joyful  lay, 

For  His  eternal  Easter  Day. 


[13] 


EASTER    DAY. 

"The  right  hand  of  the  Lord  bringeth  mighty 
things  to  pass;  I  shall  not  die,  but  live." — Psalm 
cxviii.  16,  17.     (Proper  Psalm.) 

0  sad  disciples,  cease  that  weary  sighing; 

Ye  weary  women,  dry  those  bitter  tears. 
Your  Master,  whom  ve  late  watched  bleed- 
ing,  dying, 

In  Resurrection  glory  now  appears. 

The  tomb  ye  would  have  made  a  shrine,  no 
longer 
Holds  Him  ye  seek ;  He  burst  the  gates  of 
brass. 
Strong  were  Death's  fetters,  but  our  God  is 
stronger, 
His  right  hand  bringeth  mighty  things  to 
pass. 

He  stands    among    His    own,    His    wounds 
displaying ; 
Their  doubt  and  shrinking  freely  He  for- 
gives, 
Till  one  by  one  He  hears  them  softly  saying : 
"It    is    the    Lord,    He    could    not  die,   He 
lives." 


[14] 


0  risen  Christ,  to  us  a  blessed  token 
Of  endless  life  Thine  empty  grave  doth  give, 

Knowing    that    Thou    the    iron    bars    hast 
broken, 
We  too  ma}r  say:  "I  shall  not  die,  but  live." 

Yes,  live  with  Heaven's  glory  streaming  o'er 
us, 
To    tread    the    golden    streets,   the  sea  of 
glass, 
And  join  with  rapture  in  the  eternal  chorus : 
"His  right  hand  bringeth  mighty  things  to 
pass." 


[15] 


ASCENSION  DAY. 

"Thou  shalt  give  him  everlasting  felicity  and 
make  him  glad  with  the  light  of  thy  counte- 
nance."— Psalm  xxi.  6.     (Proper  Psalm.) 

Led  by  Thy  Church,   0   Lord,    we    humbly 
tread 
The  blessed  steps   of  Thy  most  holy  life; 
We  worship  at  Thy  lowly  manger  bed, 
We    watch    beside    the    cross    Thy    dying 
strife, 
Or  kneeling  adoring  at  Thine  empty  grave 
And  call  on  Thee,  the  mighty  One,  to  save. 

But  oh,  we  cannot  follow7  Thee  to-day! 
Only    the    mountain    steep  with  Thee  we 
climb, 
Then  watch  Thee  rising  on  Thy  homeward 
way 
Till    Thou    art    lost    in    clouds    of  light 
sublime, 
And  we  are  left  to  wait  Thy  blest  return; 
Forbidden  in  our  loneliness  to  mourn. 

No  mortal  can  conceive  Thy  welcome  there, 
No  ear  can  catch  the  echo  of  those  songs 


[16] 


With  which  the  angel  hosts  Thy  praise  de- 
clare, 
And  render  homage  that  to  Thee  belongs ; 

No    sinful    man    Thy    wondrous    joy    could 
paint 

Joy  never  known  by  angel  or  by  saint. 

The    truest    bliss    Thy    loving    heart    could 

crave 

The    knowledge    of  a  world  redeemed  by 

Thee; 

Death  fully  conquered,  a  transfigured  grave, 

Fresh,  glorious  hopes  for  lost  humanity; 

All  these  are  Thine.    Thy  bitter  exile  o'er, 

Thy  Father's  house  holds  Thee  for  evermore. 

Henceforth    the    welcome    sunshine    of  His 
smile 
No  cloud  can  ever  dim,  rejoices  Thee. 
Though  forced  to  linger  here  a  little  while, 

0  Saviour,  glorified,  we  pray  that  we 
Who    now    in    heart    and    mind    with    Thee 

ascend, 
At  last  may  share  Thy  Home,  Thy  Kingdom 
without  end. 


[17] 


REMEMBRANCE. 

"Better  by  far,  you  should  forget  and  smile, 
Than  that  you  should  remember  and  be  sad." 

— Christina  G.  Rossetti. 

If  thou  couldst  speak,  were  this  thy  word  to 
me, 
0  friend  for  whom  mine  eves  with  tears 

are  wet? 
Nay,  better  far  an  endless  deep  regret, 
Better  the  keenest  pangs  of  memory 
Of  what  was  once,  of  what  I  hoped  might 
be, 
Than  that  for  one  short  day  I  should  for- 
ce t 
And  go  my  way  as  though  we  had  not 
met 
And  parted,  and  the  grass  grown  over  thee. 

But  better  far  to  look  toward  the  unseen, 
To  feel  that  every  happy  hour  below 

Was  but  a  foretaste  of  those  jo\-s  serene 
Which  we  through  all  Eternit}'  shall  know ; 

Then,  whispering  to  myself  "a  little  while," 

I  can  remember  thee,  dear  heart,  and  smile. 
2 


[18] 


A  WONDER. 

I  do  not  marvel,   when  I  sometimes  find 
That  I  can  smile  again,  and  sport  and  jest 
Though  thou  art  gone,  my  sweetest  friend 
and  best, 

And  I,  unfit  for  Heaven,  am  left  behind. 

For  even  while  He  chastens  God  is  kind, 
And  He  can  give  my  weary  spirit  rest, 
Send  His  sweet  peace  to  be  my  constant 
guest, 

And  cheerfulness  itself  to  rule  my  mind. 

But,  oh,  I  wonder  that  I  still  can  care 
For  petty  slights  and  careless  words  that 
sting; 

Can  find  unjust  rebuke  so  hard  to  bear 
Or  wince  in  pain  at  ruthless  questioning. 

How  strange  it  is  that  I  can  shed  a  tear 

For  any  cause  save  this,  thou  art  not  here. 


[19] 


IN    MEMORIAM. 

(Rev.  Dr.  H.,  died  the  second  day  of  Lent,  1897.) 

With    chastened    hearts    we    keep   our  forty 
days, 
Our  solemn  round  of  vigil  and  of  fast, 
Sad  memories  of  sins  and  follies  past 
With  deep  repentance  tempering  our  praise. 
And  even  when  our  Easter  hymns  we  raise 
The  gleams  of  glory    seem  too  bright  to 

last, 
Too  soon  our  sky  with  clouds  is  overcast, 
And    heavenly    light    is    dimmed  by  earth's 
dull  haze. 

But  for  the  one  now  hidden  from  our  sight, 
Only    one    day    of  Lent    this    springtime 
brought, 
Ash  Wednesday  gloom  to  Easter  dawn 
gave  place, 
Light  from  the  cross  without  Good  Friday's 
night 
Was     his,      then     festal     jo\r     surpassing 
thought, 
And    converse    with  the  Master  face  to 
face. 


[20] 


"As  against  a  thief." — St.  Matt.  xxvi.  55. 

"Are  ye  come  out  as  if  against  a  thief?" 
So  gently  spake  the  Holy  One  of  old, 
Upon  His  night  of  agony  untold ; 

And  we  who  read,  exclaim  with  shame  and 
grief, 

That  He  who  came  to  bring  lost  souls  relief 
Should  be  so  used  by  cruel  hands  and  bold. 
And  yet  when  we  forget  how  manifold 

His  mercies  are,  and  will  not  yield  belief 

To  promises  of  better  things  in  store, 
But  only  think  of  what  we  must  lay  down 

If  we  would  tread  the  path  He  trod  before, 
And    never    muse     upon     our     Heavenly 
crown ; 

Call  we  not  Him  a  thief,  though  He  bestow 

More  than  He  ever  takes  from  us  below? 


[21] 


"He  knowcth  our  frame." — Psalm  ciii.  14. 

What  were  the  thoughts  that  floated  through 
thy  mind, 
When,    by    the  Spirit  moved,   0  Shepherd 

King, 
Thou  for  our  comfort   and   our  aid  didst 
sing, 
"He  knows  our  frame,"  and  therefore  He  is 

kind? 
What    gem    of  truth  for  thee  lay  there  en- 
shrined, 
But  this,  that  He  who  made  each  earthly 

thing 
Knew  His  own  works  and  thus  remember- 
ing 
That  we  were  dust,  had  pity  on  mankind. 

But  in  these  latter  da}rs  God's  children  read 
The  grand  old  words,  and  find  new  mean- 
ing there, 
Presaging  Him  who  left  His  home  and 
came 
To  help  us  in  our  time  of  direst  need, 
And  our  humanity  for  aye  to  wear; 
So  reverently  we  say:   "He  knows  our 
frame. " 


[22] 


"MYSTIC,    SWEET   COMMUNION." 

(Epiphany,  1901.) 

Full  many  a  day  we  marked   with  boding 
sigh 
Here  in  this  Holy  House  one  empty  place, 
And  longed  again  one  gentle  voice  to  trace 
In  low  response  and  soaring  melody, 
And   when  we  heard  the  summons  to  draw 
nigh 
In  faith   and   share  the  Saviour's  feast  of 

grace, 
We  missed   one  kneeling  form,  one  hidden 
face, 
And  prayers  for  one  dear  exile  rose  on  high. 

That  place  is  vacant  still,  and  hushed  that 
voice, 
Yet  now  we  feel  that  she  again  is  here, 
Joining  in  solemn  prayer  and  chant  once 
more. 
Help  us,  O  unseen  Saviour,  to  rejoice 
In  loving  fellowship  with  spirits  dear 
Who  wait  to  greet  us  on  the  heavenly 
shore. 


[23] 


SONNET. 

"Approach  thy  grave 
Like  one  who  wraps  the  drapery  of  his  couch 
About  him,  and  lies  down  to  pleasant  dreams" 

— "Thanatopsis. ' ' 

When  the  Death-angel  on  my  heavy  eyes 
Shall  lay  his  hand,  and  with  a  tender  smile 
Bid  this  poor  weary  body  rest  awhile, 

Till  at  the  Saviour's  call  it  shall  arise; 

When  all  the  wondrous  joys  of  paradise, 
Where  nothing  evil  enters  to  defile, 
My  free  and  happy  spirit  shall  beguile 

Age  after  age  in  sweet  and  glad  surprise. 

No  fear  of  waking  shall  disturb  my  peace, 
No  dread  that  this  delight  mav  have  an 
end; 
But  from  a  heart  where  love  shall  reign 
supreme 
'Mid  hymns  of  rapture  that  shall  never  cease, 
Methinks  one  tuneful  strain  will  oft  ascend, 
1 'Thank  God,  'the  vision  glorious'   is  no 
dream." 


[24] 


TWO    MESSAGES. 

I  heard  one  speak:  with  glowing  words  he 
told 
Of  a  great  Conqueror  clad  in  robes  of  light, 
Summoning  His  loyal  followers  to  the  fight 

'Gainst  cruel  wrongs  and  tyrants  manifold, 

Strengthening  the  weak  and  leading  on  the 
bold, 
Winning  great  victories,  and  then  in  might 
Ending  the  wrong,  establishing  the  right, 

Making  anew  this  ruined  world  and  old. 

And  as  I   listened,  all  my  soul  was  stirred; 

For  such  a  Leader,  such  a  glorious  cause 

I  fain  would  give  myself  and  all  I  own, 

Nor  deem  the  offering  costl}^.     At  His  word 

All  earthly  gain  would  seem  to  me  but  loss. 

His  triumph  and  His  praise  my  joy  alone. 

And  then  in  simplest  words  another  spake 

Of  Him  who,  for  the  love  of  sinners,  came 

To  this  poor  earth  and  wore  our  mortal 

frame, 
And  lived  our  human  life  that  we  might  take 

Him  for  our  pattern,   and  might    learn    to 

make 


[25] 


Our  meanest  duties  glorious  in  His  name; 

Who  bore  the  burden  of  our  sin  and  shame 

And  tasted  death  unmurmuring  for  our  sake. 

And,  as  I  heard  the  old  familiar  tale 
My  weary  heart  with  joy  began  to  sing. 
His  pit}-  and  His  care  shall  know  no  end, 
His  love  abounds,   His  promise  cannot  fail. 
So  while  I  gladly  serve  my  glorious  King, 
I  too  may  trust  and  love    my    faithful 
Friend. 


[26] 


IN  THE  PRINTING-OFFICE. 

"Our  Lord  God  doeth  like  a  printer." — Luther. 

"I  cannot  read  it,  father,  father,  see, 
I  cannot  read  it.     Spell  it  out  for  me." 
So  spake  a  child  who  at  his  father's  side, 
Walked  through  a  printing-room  and  vainly 

tried 
To  read  the  type.     The  printer,  smiling,  laid 
A  sheet  upon  the  form,  raised  it,  then  said: 
''Come,  little  one,  and  try  to  read  again 
These    letters,   backward   on  the  press,   but 

plain 
Upon  the  printed  page."     The  j^outhful  brow 
Is  bright  once  more,  for  he  can  read  it  now. 

So  with  our  Father's  dealings.     Day  by  day 
We  try  to  read,  and  puzzled  turn  away. 
We  do  not  understand;  we  cannot  see 
Why  this  was  done,  or  that  allowed  to  be; 
But  in  the  world  to  come,  in  His  clear  light, 
We  too  shall  read  the  mystery  aright. 


[27] 


FROM    A    HAPPY    HEART. 

"In  all  time  of  our  prosperity,  good  Lord  de- 
liver MS." 

Not  with  a  soul  by  tempests  shaken 
While  tossing  on  Life's  troubled  sea; 

Not  with  a  heart  oppressed,  forsaken, 
Come  I,  0  gracious  Lord,  to  Thee; 

No  load  of  care,  no  hidden  grief 

Moves  me  to  seek  Thy  kind  relief. 

Nay,  'tis  the  mercies  that  surround  me, 
The  sunbeams  bright,  the  blossoms  fair, 

These  loving  hearts  I  find  around  me, 
This  wish  fulfilled,  that  answered  pra\Ter, 

Bright  memories  and  hopes  more  sweet — 

These  bring  me  to  Thy  sacred  feet. 

I  ask  not  now  for  strength  in  sorrow, 
Or  comfort  for  an  aching  heart, 

In  fear  lest  Thou  shouldst  bid  to-morrow 
These  blessings  suddenly  depart — 

Ah,  no !  the  grace  for  which  I  pray 

Is  to  bear  joy  aright  to-day. 

To  take  each  separate  gift  or  pleasure 
As  token  of  that  tender  care, 


[28] 

Which  I  can  never  fully  measure, 

Yet  know  surrounds  me  everywhere, 
And  though  my  sunshine  turn  to  night, 
Still  guides  my  wavering  steps  aright. 

0  Father,  let  no  bliss  Thou  sendest, 
Fill  utterly  this  wayward  heart, 

And  while  I  take  the  joy  Thou  lendest, 
Make  me  content  therewith  to  part, 

When  Thou  shalt  bid  me  yield  to  Thee 

E'en  that  which  choicest  seems  to  me. 

And  keep  before  my  spirit  ever 
The  sense  of  mv  unworthiness, 

For  what  am  I,  whom  Thou  dost  never 
Forget  to  comfort  and  to  bless! 

Yes,  let  me  alwavs  humbled  be 

By  each  bright  gift  Thou  sendest  me. 


[29] 


CHILD    WISDOM. 

"O  mother,  wipe  my  tears  away," 

I  heard  a  little  maiden  say, 

Although  her  mother's  stern  surprise 

Had  brought  the  tears  to  those  sweet  eves. 

Dear  little  one,  full  well  she  knew 
Though  mother  chides,  she  comforts  too; 
One  moment  she  must  needs  reprove, 
But  naught  can  change  her  tender  love. 

Children  of  larger  growth  are  we, 
Yet  oft  this  truth  we  fail  to  see, 
That  He  alone  can  balm  bestow 
Who  caused  the  bitter  tears  to  flow. 

Though  His  rebuke  hath  made  us  mourn, 

Our  penitence  He  will  not  scorn, 

If,  like  the  little  child,  we  sa\~, 

1 'Dear  Father,  wipe  our  tears  away." 


[30] 


A     KING'S    DAUGHTER. 
(Laid  to  rest,  December  10th,  1893.) 

"Look  up  and  not  down, 
Look  forward  and  not  back. 
Look  out  and  not  in, 
Lend  a  hand.11 

Not  downward,  to  the  narrow  grave  where 
sleepeth 
The  lifeless  form  }re  sadly  laid  away, 
But  upward,   where  the   "tender  Shepherd" 
keepeth 
His  little  lamb,  O  turn  your  eyes  to-day. 

Not  backward,   on  the  days  now  past  for- 
ever, 
The    happy    memories    of    her   childhood 
years, 
But  forward  to  the  time  when  partings  never 
Shall  wring  the  heart  again,  look  through 
vour  tears. 

Not  inward,  on  the  spirit  crushed  and  bleed- 
ing, 
Weighed  down  beneath  this  heavy  load  of 
grief, 


[31] 


But  out  on  others  who  j-our  help  are  need- 
ing, 
0  mourners  look,  and  ye  shall  find   relief. 


Lending  a  hand  to  all  in  want  and  sadness 
Ye  work  with  her,  whose  earthly  task  is 
o'er; 
With  her,  who  in  the  realms  of  endless  glad- 
ness 
Still  serveth   "in  His  name"  for  evermore. 


[32] 


A  BIRTHDAY  WISH. 
(April   7th.) 

"Delight  thou  in  the  Lord  and  he  shall  give  thee 
thy  heart's  desire." — Psalm  xxxvii.  4.  (Psalter 
for  the  day.) 

What  shall  I  wish  thee,   dear,  on  this  glad 

morning, 

When    thoughts    of    thee    should     loving 

prayers  inspire? 

Sweet  flowers  are  to-day  thy  path  adorning, 

I  ask  for  thee  henceforth  "thy  heart's  de- 

y  y 

sire. 

W7hat    it    may    be,    for  knowledge,  love,   or 
pleasure, 
I  know  not  now,  nor  would  I  e'en  inquire. 
Enough  if  God  but  grant  thee  that   great 
treasure — 
Through    all    earth's    changes,    still    thy 
heart's  desire. 

Yet  well  I  know  that  He    whose    love  en- 
foldeth 
Oar  wavward  souls  and  fain  would  lead  us 

higher, 


[33] 


In  truest  kindness  oft  from  us  withholdeth 
The  choicest  gift  of  all — our  heart's  desire. 

And    therefore,    dear,    still    be  thy  chief  en- 
deavor 
To  know  His  will,  and  to  His  love  aspire, 
Then  God  thy  Father  shall  fulfil  forever 
In  thee  and  for  thee  all  thy  heart's  desire. 
3 


[34] 


WHAT  LACK  I  YET? 

What  lack  I  yet?    In  solemn  silence  kneeling, 

From  worldly  cares  and  pleasures  called 
apart, 

I  wait,  O  Lord,  Thy  Spirit's  light,  revealing 

The  deeper  needs  of  my  aspiring  heart. 

What  lack  I  yet?    Though  pledged  to  Thee 

forever, 

Signed  with  Thy  cross,  fed  with  Thy  holy 

food, 

My  faith  is  dim  and  weak  is  my  endeavor 

To  do  the  right,  to  seek  the  highest  good. 

What  lack  I  yet?  A  purpose  never-failing 
To  live  Thy  life,  to  honor  Thy  great  name, 

Though  all  the  hosts  of  evil  are  assailing, 
Still  to  press  onward  with  a  lofty  aim. 

What  lack  I  yet?    The  spirit  of  submission, 
A  will  made  one  with  Thine,  whose  will  is 
best, 

0  gracious  Saviour  grant  me  this  petition, 
And  in  Thy  service  let  me  find  my  rest. 


[35] 


What    lack    I    jet?    The    best,    the    choicest 
blessing, 

Thy  Holy  Spirit  in  me  to  abide, 
Ruling  my  life,  my  inmost  heart  possessing, 

I  then  may  hope  to  have  my  need  supplied. 


[36] 


THE    MONK'S    PRAYER. 

In  a  quiet,  lonely  cell 
Knelt  a  monk.     The  convent  bell 
From  the  ivy-covered  tower 
Scarce  had  told  the  midnight  hour. 
All  day  long  he  had  been  pleading 
With  hard  hearts,  but  not  succeeding 
In  his  chosen  work  of  leading 
Men  of  earth  God's  love  to  know; 
Leading  them  to  Him  wmo  made  them, 
To  the  Spirit  who  will  aid  them 
In  the  ceaseless  strife  below, 
And  will  guide  them  to  that  Heaven 
Promised  to  all  souls  forgiven 
Through  a  dying  Saviour's  woe. 
With  a  sad,  despairing  heart 
Long  he  pondered  o'er  his  mission, 
Then  he  prayed  with  sudden  start: 
' 'Send  me,  Lord,  some  glorious  vision, 
Vision  of  our  Lord,  perchance, 
With  His  tender,  pitying  glance 
Gentlv  calling,  'Come  to  Me, 
For  I  bring  rich  gifts  to  thee.' 
Or  some  angel  presence  bright 
Turning  darkness  into  light, 
Speaking  words  of  goodly  cheer, 


[37] 

Casting  out  my  last  vague  fear; 

Could  I  tell  this  wondrous  tale, 

Surelv  then  I  should  not  fail 

In  my  chosen  task  of  winning 

Ransomed  souls  from  ways  of  sinning, 

Bringing  them  to  Thy  dear  feet." 

And  he  looked  with  reverence  meet 

To  the  image  of  his  Master 

Hanging  o'er  the  humble  shrine, 

And  his  tears  fell  faster,  faster, 

And  the  words  of  prayer  came  thronging 

Winged  with  strong,  intensest  longing 

For  one  glimpse  of  light  Divine. 

Then  a  silence  long  and  deep 

Seemed  across  his  soul  to  sweep, 

And  the  words  of  supplication 

Died  away  and  left  him  kneeling 

Wrapt  in  lowliest  adoration, 

And  amid  his  exaltation 

Came  a  still  small  whisper  stealing 

Into  his  heart's  inmost  cell, 

Like  the  chime  of  some  sweet  bell. 

1  'Who  that  tale  would  e'er  receive, 

Who  thy  vision  would  believe; 

Thou  to  some  half-crazed  would  seem, 

While  the  others  would  but  deem 


[38] 

Thou  hadst  had  a  blessed  dream. 
Learn  a  surer,  better  way, 
Strive  and  labor  day  by  day, 
Overcoming  self  and  sin, 
Nourishing  all  good  within, 
Till  our  Lord's  transforming  grace 
All  men  in  thy  life  may  trace. 
As  the  silver  moon  at  even 
Seen  in  the  far  distant  heaven 
Shows  us  by  her  kindly  rays 
That,  though  hidden  from  our  gaze, 
Still  the  glorious  sun  is  near, 
For  without  his  radiance  clear 
She  would  be  but  dark  and  drear; 
So  the  Lord  on  thee  shall  shine, 
Thou  reflect  His  light  Divine, 
And  the  praise  be  His,  not  thine." 

Long  the  monk  knelt  on  and  prayed, 

Then  he  rose  and  humbly  said: 

"God  is  good;  I  will  not  pray 

For  a  vision  from  above, 

But  endeavor  day  by  day 

In  the  strength  of  His  great  love 

Such  a  Christlike  life  to  live, 

And  to  Him  the  glory  give, 

That  the  watching  world  may  see 

Not  myself,  but  Him  in  me." 


[39] 


"We  would  see  Jesus ." — St.  John  xii.  21. 

Lord  Jesus,  I  would  see  Thee, 

As  did  those  Greeks  of  old ; 
Would  gaze  upon  Thy  glory, 

Thy  loveliness  behold; 
Oh,  let  my  inward  vision 

Grow  clearer  day  by  day, 
That  I  may  oft  discern  Thee 

Upon  my  homeward  way. 

When  by  sin's  heavy  burden 

My  spirit  is  oppressed, 
When  friends  can  give  no  comfort, 

The  world  afford  no  rest, 
Then,  Lord,  I  fain  would  see  Thee, 

My  Saviour  crucified, 
And  know  my  guilt  is  pardoned 

Since  Thou  for  us  hast  died. 

Oft  sinks  my  heart  desponding, 
And  doubts  and  fears  prevail, 

My  faith  so  weak  and  wavering 
The  tempter  will  assail; 


[40] 

'Tis  then  I  long  to  see  Thee, 

Jesus,  my  King  divine, 
And  feel  Thy  love  is  guarding 

My  soul,  for  I  am  Thine. 

Should  I  grow  faint  and  weary 
With  toil  or  pain  or  care, 

Should  sorrows  come  upon  me 
I  scarce  know  how  to  bear, 

Lord  Jesus,  I  would  see  Thee, 
My  sympathizing  Friend, 

Whose  gracious  wisdom  guideth 

All  things  to  some  good  end. 

And  when  Death's  solemn  summons 

Shall  fall  upon  my  ear, 
Let  sight  of  Thee,  my  Saviour, 

Dispel  all  gloom  and  fear, 
Till  I  have  crossed  that  river, 

And  on  the  other  side, 
I  see  Thee  in  Thy  beauty, 

And  thus  am  satisfied. 


[41] 


WORK    AT    THY    FATHER'S    BUSINESS. 

Work  at  thy  Father's  business, 
Child  of  His  love  and  care ; 

Take  up  thy  task  with  boldness, 
Strong  to  do  and  dare. 

Work  with  youth's  inspiration, 

Courage,  and  zeal,  and  power; 

Brightly  God's  sun  shines  o'er  thee 
In  life's  morning  hour. 

Work  at  Thy  Father's  business, 

Thou  who  hast  reached  the  noon; 
Patience  and  hope  will  aid  thee, 

Rest  conies  sure  and  soon. 
Seems  thv  toil  hard  and  drearv? 

One  who  the  like  has  known 
Stands  at  thy  side  to  cheer  thee; 

Thou  art  not  alone. 

Work  at  thy  Father's  business, 
WThile  thv  dav  nears  its  end, 

Watching  with  faith  unfaltering 
Shades  of  night  descend. 

Lo !  what  a  wondrous  sunset 
Gladdens  thy  failing  sight, 


[42] 

Till  all  the  clouds  shall  vanish 
In  eternal  light. 

Still  on  Thy  Father's  business, 

Speeding  on  wings  of  love, 
Thou  shalt  go  forth  unwearied 

From  the  Home  above. 
All  that  could  mar  or  hinder 

Left  with  thy  life  below, 
Only  the  joy  of  serving 

Henceforth  shalt  thou  know. 


[43] 


MISSIONARY    HYMN. 

Of  old  the  Saviour's  loyal  band 

Went  forth  before  His  face, 
To  spread  abroad  throughout  the  land 

The  riches  of  His  grace ; 
They  sought  those  who  in  darkness  lay, 

Whose  hearts  were  cold  and  numb, 
They  straightened  paths  and  smoothed  the 
way 

Where  He  Himself  would  come. 

Again  to-day  the  summons  falls 

On  many  a  heedless  ear, 
To  succor  those  whom  sin  enthralls, 

Who  mourn  in  gloom  and  fear; 
But   Christian  hands  and  hearts  are  weak, 

Their  lips  too  oft  are  dumb. 
Will  none  His  erring  children  seek 

Ere  He  Himself  shall  come? 

Can  we  to  whom  His  Word  is  given 

Forbear  to  make  it  known? 
Are  holy  joys  and  hopes  of  Heaven 

Meant  for  ourselves  alone? 
How  can  we  feed  on  living  bread 

While  they  taste  not  a  crumb? 


[44] 

Rise;  haste  the  blessed  feast  to  spread 
Where  He  Himself  shall  come. 

O  Saviour,  look  with  pitying  eye 

On  these  our  careless  hearts, 
And  send  Thy  spirit  from  on  high 

Who  zeal  and  love  imparts, 
Take  Thou  each  selfish  thought  away, 

Unseal  those  lips  now  dumb; 
That  we  may  face  Thee  in  that  day 

When  Thou  Thyself  shalt  come. 


